


Coffee Grounds At The Bottom Of The Cup

by IRegretNothingAndEverything



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: angsty, coffee shop AU, megamind enjoys sweet things, this is not what i expected to happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 21:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20021428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IRegretNothingAndEverything/pseuds/IRegretNothingAndEverything
Summary: Megamind Coffee Shop AUHe shows up every Sunday at 3:17 pm on the dot.





	Coffee Grounds At The Bottom Of The Cup

**Author's Note:**

> This did not go where I expected it to go. Whoops

He shows up every Sunday at exactly 3:17 pm on the dot. He always orders the same thing, a sugary sweet monstrosity that Roxanne could tell you by heart if you asked her what her favorite yet least favorite drink to make was. Because it was always her. 

He gave her a different name each time, but they always started with an M. He would rattle out the drink order, though she was capable of putting in the order just a smidgen ahead of him while he spoke. Than, because he was picky as hell and said that only she made it right, she would step to the side with him on the other side of the counter, and her coworker would take over the register and she would make his ungodly sweet concoction. 

And they would talk 

He would tell her of things he was working on, she would tell him about customers from the rest of the day, with the look that said ‘its so much worse than this but legally I can’t tell you when I’m in uniform’ and he’d laugh and say ‘they were an ass?’ and she’d reply ‘Can’t tell you that’ and hand over the drink and he’d tell her to have a good day and step off to the seats, settle in a spot and drink his coffee. 

Sometimes he had a lap top. Most of the time he just sat by the window and stared out at the passing people, slowly sipping at his drink. 

He stayed until they closed, around 5. Sometimes at 4:30 he’d get up and get a small pastry, but most of the time he just sat and drank his drink before he got up and threw the empty cup out, walking out the door at exactly 5 pm, on the dot, every time. 

Roxanne would sometimes sit and stare at him as he walked in from the side door, never the front, and slip into line. He always wore the same thing, and the most insane looking watch ever. She asked about it once. He just laughed in a nervous sort of way and said he made it. 

Her coworkers knew exactly what she was like, and would always situate it perfectly for her to be the one to take his order and make it. 

M, as they began to call him, would never complain if someone else made it, but he got a sad look on his face, take a few sips of it, than let it sit in front of him as he stared outside. Roxanne ended up telling everyone else to leave that drink for her. He only finished it if she made it after all. 

Once she asked him for his real name. He laughed softly, told her she wouldn’t believe him if he told her, and had told her the next name in the list she was sure he had somewhere. Always an M. 

Today was no different, a fall Sunday when the little bell rang above the door on the side and he slipped into the coffee shop with his brown jacket with the lightly brown elbow patches, a dark blue shirt underneath and, strangely enough, a pair of blue jeans. She never saw what shoes he wore, but she was pretty sure they were some sort of boot. 

It was a quiet day that day, so she stood waiting for him to shuffle up, he never walked always seemed to shuffle, to the register, smiling softly. He rattled off the drink specifications, as she wrote it down just a bit faster than him, ringing him up quickly. He always paid in cash, with a twenty. Never more never less. His change was always $6.15. They had started setting that aside for him. 

She stepped to her left. He stepped to his right, watching her through the plastic separation. And he began to talk. 

He spoke quietly, a soft gentle voice with an accent she couldn’t quite place. Today, it seemed, was the same as last week, gushing over an AI he had said he was creating, replicating an animals brain and expanding it to hold more human concepts in it, without giving it too much self awareness. She was enthralled, making the drink on auto pilot. She paused a moment, then lifted the cup that it was going to go into, and scribbled across the side a moment, before tipping the drink in and going to hand it to him.   
Her hand slipped. The drink fell. 

It crashed into the counter, the cup breaking open, the number on the side of the cup smearing in the liquid, as it splashed onto his outstretched hand, onto the watch. 

The watch flickered once. Zapped. And M changed in front of her. 

She barely caught a glimpse of the blue skin that was showed, his eyes wide and surprised, before he stumbled back, turning and fleeing the shop. It took a moment for her to react, but she did, flinging her apron off and racing after him. 

He was gone by the time she got outside. 

The next Sunday, M didn’t come back.

**Author's Note:**

> Who knows if i'm gonna do a sequel of this   
> Also, yes, Roxanne did write her number on that last cup.


End file.
